Rescue Me: A Tom x Bill Story
by calhale
Summary: based off Moulin Rouge but not a word for word copy Tom is a musician just moved to Berlin and after meeting the members of the band Mcfly, Tom is thrown into a whirlwind of emotions he only thought he'd write songs about. TomxBill Tom FxDanny Pudd slash!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: First things first; I do NOT own Tokio Hotel, Moulin Rouge, Mcfly, and/or and peoples or musical properties that belong to them. This is for non-profit and for entertainment purposes only. It is a complete work of fiction and the character portrayals of actual people and places are for entertainment purposes only as well. This is a work of slash fiction a.k.a. it portrays homosexual relations between men. If you are uncomfortable with this please refrain from reading and find another piece of fan fiction or literature that is more appropriate for your tastes. This story also contains drug use, nonconsensual sex between men, abuse, self harm perhaps as well as other adult themes and settings. Again if you don't like; don't read!

This fiction is inspired by the art of Mearii on Deviant Art entitled No One at My Window. This for her fan fiction contest.

Now that that's done. If you do like all this stuff, please enjoy! Emergency exits are located at the rear of the vehicle as well as at the front and to the sides. Please fasten your seat belts and in case of a water landing use the inflatable life vest located under your seat. In the rare occurrence of nose bleeds or air pressure changes, oxygen masks will magically fall form the ceiling. Please place your mask on first before helping other. Have a nice ride and thank you for reading with Cal Hale today!

The winter air snaked into the small drafty apartment and filled the room with an icy chill. However the young man slouched in the corner took no notice and instead brought his last cigarette to his purpled lips between shaky fingers.

His eyes were dull and grey and although his heart beat thundered throughout his skull; he had the look about him that indicated that something in him had died.

"Bill…" The name slide from his throat like poison and for a moment he closed his eyes in a futile attempt to chase away the beautiful face that haunted him.

Pulling the smoking tube from his lips, the youth glared across the decaying space at a gleaming Gibson Les Paul Studio guitar that seemed to be taunting him. It's silverburst finish shone in the moonshine and it made him want to throw up. Too many memories were calling him, too many moments that would just lead to his destruction. And so he sat in the corner and smoked; preying that in the morning the ice that gripped his heart would melt away.

Moments passed like hours, seconds seemed like days and all together it seemed as though the night about never end. It began to eat away at him until he couldn't sit still any longer. With a spiteful sigh the youth stood and stalked across the cold floor to his guitar. It shined up at him as if laughing at his torment.

Rage, frustration and a horrid longing began to build within his chest and with an angry growl, he grabbed the guitar and turned to smash it against the ground.

But something stopped him. Some sweet and burning pain in his heart brought tears to his eyes and he dropped to his knees. Falling half way onto his bed; which now seemed like a cold and empty expanse of white.

Tears ran like salty rivers down his bronzed cheeks and he held the instrument to his chest as if it were the most precious thing on earth. His shoulders shook with sorrow and grief as pent up agony poured out of him. Collapse was his only option and the frosted hard wood seemed to come up and meet him as he finished his decent down.

He laid there in self loathing and misery, letting the emotions he had forced away come back to him and consume him. And it was as if he finally understood what he had been missing. He knew now what he had to do. What he needed to do.

Pulling himself up onto the edge of the bed, a silent shake coursing through his exhausted body, He took up his cherished guitar and he began to play. And in his head, a voice that wasn't his own, spoke the words he needed to say.

_This song is about love. The person I love is dead…_

_Six months before…_

Tom Kaulitz stepped off the train, guitar and duffle bag in tow, at Berlin station with a sly smirk across his lips. He was finally out of the tiny town he had grown up in and finally free from the sinking feeling that his ex-band, Devilish, was going to fail. He shrugged off the sour taste in his mouth at the thought that he had really been kicked out, but at least he was free now. Free to play his own music, to write his own music, and to express himself the way he wanted. He'd come to make a name for himself and write songs that expressed the deepest of all emotions; hate, betrayal, joy, passion, and above all things…love.

He wandered the streets for hours in pursuit of nothing in particular at first . But as the sun began to set, Tom's dread locks grew heavy and his baggy jeans and over sized tee-shirts were sticking to him from sweat. The little money he had brought with him seemed smaller and smaller an amount as he looked for a room to stay in vain. Finally in the back streets of Berlin; along a narrow and wet alley way, Tom found a room that he could rent for fifty dollars a month.

It was a frail, un-sturdy kind of building and the land lady seemed even frailer then the structure she owned. But she had smiled at Tom and led him into the stifling hot complex and up three flights of stairs to his room while she bantered on about the so called "performance artists" who lived next door and that the roof leaked during the worst of rainstorms. "Also," she added, "The building across the street, the fancy one strung up with lights, is a whore house."

"The sign outside said it was a concert hall." Tom pointed out as he sat down on the old mattress that was in place for a bed and wiped his sweat glistening forehead with the bottom of his shirt.

"They put up a mighty good front don't they? It may have started that way, but there hasn't been a legitimate show in on that stage in years. And hardly a decent women or man has set foot in the place since it opened." The aged women chuckled and waved her hand.

"But forget me. I'm just a little old fashioned I guess. But if you do bring a girl home, try to keep the noise down. It probably won't matter with your neighbors being as loud as they are, but still…" She smiled at Tom again and placed her small wrinkled hand on his shoulder, "Did you have anymore questions?"

Tom shook his head and tongued at his lower lip ring, "Nope, Thanks." She patted his shoulder warmly and left, only looking back once as she shuffled out of the room.

Tom inhaled deeply after her departure and then promptly pulled his tee-shirts off, throwing his hat and sweat band to the floor with his shirt, and fell backwards to sprawl himself across the cool sheets on the thinning mat you could almost come call a bed. The sheets were colder then the room and they felt lusciously good against his heated skin. Exhaling away some of the stress of the day, Tom piled his heavy dreads atop his head and tied them in place with a hair band so the chilled fabric could cool his tired neck. Finally opening his eyes as he began to relax, Tom looked about him. The place was a dump to say the least, but it had large windows that led out to a balcony that wrapped around his room which was nice and offered a stunning view of the sunset. This and the fact that it was cheap perhaps being the only redeeming qualities Tom had found. Looking up, Tom could see that the ceiling above him was decayed. It was black and grey in some spots and sinking in in others from water damage. Tom grimaced and turned onto his side to avoid the sight. "You're free now, remember, free." he comforted himself.

"Free…" Tom mumbled as he played with his lip ring. The word seemed to inspire something and he sat up to grab his guitar. It was an old guitar, acoustic and not the best but it did what Tom's fingers told it to do and at times it seemed to even be an extension of himself he liked to think. And as he sat in his tiny room, on his rotting mattress, and plucked at the cool metallic strings the world seemed to faded away a little and the black mold in the corner and the stench of too many people cooking seemed to soften a bit.

Tom smiled softly as he strummed away, playing around with chords and harmonies like they were old friends he had made as a child. Pure and innocent, the sound surrounded him in a cloud of happiness and care free.

Suddenly, thundering noise was coming toward Tom and he jumped in surprise as a group of mismatched teenagers smashed through the door, breaking it off it's hinges and escalating into mass of limbs upon Tom's floor.

Tom sat in shock, cradling his guitar protectively to his chest, as the tangle of boys pried themselves from each other, groaning and shoving until the four of them were on their feet and brushing the dirty from their already soiled clothing.

"Can I help you?" Tom asked in surprise more then irritation.

"Hi!" The blondest of the group smiled and held his hand out for Tom to shake, "I'm Tom! But please call me Fletcher."

Tom smirked and after a moment and took the other Tom's hand, "Me too. Well Tom anyway. Tom Kaulitz."

Fletcher's eyes lit up in excitement, "Oh that's so cool." Bouncing on the balls of his feet Fletcher turned to the brunette next to him. "Did you hear that Danny, his name is Tom too? I'm sure it's a sign."

"You don't believe in signs Fletch." Danny reminded him with a playful smile.

Fletcher opened his mouth about to make a rather snide retort when Tom interrupted, "Who are you guys?"

There was a snicker shared between Danny and the other two that Fletcher made a put out sound to and shhhed before turning back to Tom, "Where are my manners, As you know I'm Fletcher, this is my 'Roommate' Danny Jones." The roll of Fletcher's eyes and his use of air quotes on the word roommate made Tom chuckle silently as Danny elbowed Fletcher in the ribs.

"Hey watch it!" Fletcher whined at the tough push, "whatever. Moving on, this is Harry Judd. He also lives with us. And the thin thing that's hanging all over him is Dougie. Dougie works at the brothel across the street. He's a dancer. Aren't you Dougie?" Fletcher asked teasingly to which Dougie stuck his tongue out and giggled when Harry pulled his face back up and kissed him rather thoroughly.

"They're kind of an item." Fletcher added in a half whisper.

Tom raised an eyebrow, "I can see that."

There was a small moment of awkwardness and Tom began to fidget nervously, "So, is there a reason you guys decided to break down my door?"

"Oh!" Fletcher exclaimed, "I forgot! I'm sorry! We were just so excited when we heard you playing. You see, we're performance artists. Well musicians really and we were lounging in our living room right above you when we heard you playing. You see we have been looking for a guitarist for awhile and Dougie won't do it because he's always at work. So when we heard you we were so excited we just had to come down and meet you. And ask you to be in our band really. You were so amazing. The notes were like a melody that sang to the soul and it almost brought tears to my eyes I swear. So will you? "

"What?" Tom asked as Fletchers words had seemed more of a blur in his ears then a coherent thought.

Before Fletcher would once again jump into his tirade, Danny came to Tom's rescue, "What Fletch is trying to say is if you are looking for something to do, we'd love to have you join our band."

Somehow, Harry and Dougie came up for air and Harry added, "Yeah, you sounded really great, even with that acoustic of yours. And I'm sure that six pack of yours will come in handy during our concerts. Fan girls love that crap."

Realizing he was still shirtless, Tom bite his lip and tried to hide the blush that inflamed his cheeks by turning around to grab one of his shirts and pulling it on.

"Harry, way to be rude man." Fletcher scolders and smacked Harry's arm.

Shaking off his embarrassment Tom cleared his throat and changed the subject, "So you guys are in a band. What kind of music do you play?"

"Mostly rock pop stuff right now. We cover a random assortment of bands." Fletcher answered

Harry cut in, "Yeah which sucks because the only band we should ever cover is the Beatles. Instead we're stuck playing whatever club owners want us to play and working around Dougie's schedule at the brothel. Ain't that right kiddo?" Harry added as he went in for another kiss with Dougie, who welcomed the attention happily.

Fletcher and Danny rolled their eyes in shame. "Are they like this all the time?" Tom questioned suspiciously and took a large step away from the couple.

"Only at home. Most of the time Harry's flirting with everything with legs and Dougie's shaking his ass at the brothel for men and women alike." Danny replied. "But yeah, we just get used to it."

"Although they could be a bit more courteous when meeting new people. People who play guitar insanely well and could play for the band!" Fletcher offered more to Harry and Dougie then to Tom.

Tom smiled and chuckled quietly. "It's cool dude, good for them, finding love an all. You guys seem cool enough. We should jam together sometime."

"Great!" Fletcher exclaimed, "How about now? Come on. we'll show you our pad. Harry, Dougie stop eating face. We have a guitarist to induct!"

"You want me to do what?" Tom coughed out between great bouts of sour-sweet smoke.

"All you have to do is…" Fletcher paused to take a hit from the pipe and exhale, " convince Bill that you're from a big time label and that he should sing with us. It'll be fine."

"Yeah and you have to sing at the brothel." Dougie added from his side of the smoke circle.

"Why?" Tom questioned, still confused about what his part in this was.

Harry answered after he took a drag on the pot, his voice horse and deep while he held the smoke in to talk, "Because people from all over the country come to see Bill dance. He's like the star of the brothel."

Danny continued for him as Harry erupted into a chorus of hacking coughs. "It would be the biggest venue we've ever played and a lot of celebrities come there to party. It would be like our big break. As long as Bill can convince Potts to let us.

"Potts?" Tom wheezed

"My boss." Dougie broke in, " He owns the brothel; kind of a creep, but cool enough. And he's half way in love with Bill."

"Which is why you have to make Bill say yes and have him ask Potts to let us. Potts will let Bill do anything especially if there's a chance he'll make money off of it." Fletcher

"And how exactly am I supposed to do all this?" Tom interjected, "Why can't one of you guys do it?"

Fletcher rolled his eyes, "Because he knows us. We go there all the time. But no one will know you. And I'm sure you'll figure out something."

"Show him your abs." Harry proclaimed.

"Are you sure you don't have anything better to wear Tom?" Fletcher whined as he looked up from Tom's bed and appraised Tom's wardrobe.

"What's wrong with my clothing?" Tom proclaimed as he looked down at his nicest shirt, white with black and red graphics, and his closest to designer pair of baggy jeans. He had even managed to get his dreads to fit nicely through his black sweat band and pristine white Sox hat. He thought he looked rather put together.

Fletcher rolled over and stood up just as Harry walked into the room, "Harry will you please tell Tom what is wrong with his choices in clothing."

Harry looked Tom up and down quickly and stated, "You look like you stepped out of a rap video and are going to rob the place." Tom stood there, jaw dropped in utter disbelief. "Oh, Fletch, Danny wants to see you before we leave, which if we want to get in should be in about 15 minutes. So get going."

"Fine," Fletcher groaned and turned to leave, "And Tom, we're taking you shopping one of these days I swear."

"Don't listen to him." Harry commented after Fletcher was out of hearing range. "He's just a diva. Now let's go find some ladies."

"Here, here!" Tom laughed as they exited Tom's room and headed out into the night.

The brothel was unlike any place Tom had ever been. His so called band mates had skittered away as soon as they had gotten in and so Tom, feeling not quiet comfortable yet decided a trip to the bar was much needed in an attempt to relax. The music was loud and the DJ spun the vinyl records into a pulsing beat that made the whole place feel like it moved to the rhythm of hot slow sex. There were booths surrounding the large, slightly sticky, wooden dance floor and Tom grimaced at the state his shoes would be in later as he walked toward the bar through the couples that were grinding against one another as if there wasn't enough time for them to find some dark and more private corner to commit the act.

Scattered about were caged landings where well endowed girls and scantly clad boys danced and swung their small curved hips to the beat. Tom spotted Dougie dancing on one of the long stages that spanned one side of the room and men and women alike were throwing bills at him. Tom shook his head when Dougie came up from a rather provocative back bend and smiled at him. Even though he had never really thought about it, he could see why Harry was infatuated with the boy.

Finally reaching the bar, Tom leaned against the smooth oak table top and tried to get one of the bar tender's attention. It was crowded and noisy and even when a bar tended walked right by him, the man seemed to ignore Tom completely and continue on to help a buxom blond at the end of the bar.

"What the fuck dude?" Tom yelled at the guy as he walked passed him for a third time.

There was a chuckle next to him and Tom realized someone had saddled up to the bar next to him. Turning to look at the person who had laughed at him Tom's eyes went wide. The young man next to him was to but it simply one of the most beautiful things Tom had ever laid eyes on.

He was tall, with a lithe frame and pale creamy skin that seemed to shimmer over his high cheek bones in the lights of the night club; looking even paler surrounded by his cvascade of ebony locks. His honey colored eyes were accentuated with dark kohl and his lips were plump and wet with what Tom could only imagine being a pale pink lip gloss.

The youth smiled at Tom suggestively, "If you want a drink you have to be a little sweeter, smile more. The bar tenders here are too into themselves to give a shit about anyone that doesn't look like they'll sleep with them."

"Is that so?" Tom mused

"Here I'll show you." the other said as he leaned over the bar and smiled at the blond bar tender who hadn't even acknowledged Tom's presence this entire time. "Hey babe, can you please get us some drinks?"

With a sly smirk the jerk glided over, "Anything for you doll. What do you need?"

Tom's new acquaintance smiled and rolled his hips a little playfully which not only captured the full attention of the bar tender but also Tom's. "Well, I'll have a long island ice tea. What will you have?" He ordered and then turned toward Tom.

Tom's eyes were still firmly glued to the youths thin hips and the glimpse of a star tattoo that blackened the skin there. "I'll have the same." Tom muttered.

The bartended rushed away to make their drinks and his companion cleared his throat to wake Tom out of his daze, "So I guess I should introduce myself, my name's Bill; Bill Trumper."

"Tom Kaulitz. It's good to meet you." Tom fumbled and tried to make his name sound cooler then it was.

Bill smiled softly and offered Tom his hand, "It's nice to meet you too Tom, so to what do I owe the honor of our meeting?"

Tom shook his hand just as their drinks arrived, "You actually."

Bill arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in interest, "Me? Really now?"

"Yeah," Tom continued and tried to remember what he had practiced saying in the bathroom mirror about a hundred times in case this very event should happen. "I'm in the music industry and I'm looking for singer for a show that a band I… speak for is trying to set up. And as far as I've heard you're the best singer around."

Bill's eyes lit up like stars and a bright and an excited smile spread across his face at the compliment. His smile was dazzling and it hit Tom like a good punch in the gut. "Really?" Bill pressed, "What kind of music does your band play?"

"We're working on some original stuff right now, but we need a voice to make the lyrics come to life before we can really breath any true emotion into the music. Perhaps a voice like yours." Tom took a small step forward in another attempt to seem suave and not cheesy. "From what I've heard your voice is like listening to the sounds of utmost desire wrapped in a fog of unearthly beauty. A beauty so rare it melts the hearts of everyone who hears it." Tom almost cringed at how stupid he thought he sounded, but at least it had sounded better then the silly pick up lines Dougie and Fletcher had written up for him.

And luckily his improvisations seemed to have worked their magic. Bill, who had been about to take a sip at the straw to his drink, was frozen and slightly slack jawed; revealing a black studded tongue ring and Tom took a moment to fight back a shudder of lust at the thought of that tongue ring running along his skin. "So," Tom smiled and drew another few steps closer toward Bill until their faces were mere inches away, "What do you think?"

"I…Tom… are you serious?" Bill stammered and set his drink down to place a hand on Tom's bare forearm. And the moment of physical touch, skin to skin, was like magic. A shivering jolt swept through the pair, and left tingling in its wake. It was like their minds exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. The room around them no longer existed and together they were floating in a great expanse of white and left them panting with wild elation.

Tom was barely conscious enough to murmur a yes in reply before Bill's lips collided with his own and any thought process he may have had at that point was lost with in a sea of emotions and raw unexplored beauty. Somewhere off in the distance he could hear a moan and Tom nor Bill could tell which one it had come from but that it was collective and expressed something primal and needy that set them both on fire for each other.

However the moment was cut short by a vibration coming from Bill's jean pocket. Cursing as they separated, Bill reached into his skinny jeans and looked at his phone. "I'm sorry I have to go get ready for the show. I… whatever just happened. I don't know what it was but… just watch the show and then find me after. We'll talk." Bill declared albeit a little shaken and thrown off balance from the energy that they had shared and was still running though his veins like wildfire.

Tom could only nod in a lusty stupor, his mind still in wonder-shock as Bill ran off toward the stage door. He laughed softly as Bill ran into a rather brutal looking man with shoulder length brown hair and a sour smile. Bill dropped his phone and the man helped him pick it up, his sour face turning intrigued and sweet as he looked Bill up and down. Tom shrugged off the feeling of possessiveness that washed over him as the man received a thankful hug from Bill before Bill once again scurried off to his destination.

Tom glared at the man for a moment when their eyes met for a second but the icy eye contact was severed when a muscled and severe looking blond man stepped between them and ushered the man off toward the V.I.P area. Turning back to the bar, Tom decided he would try Bill's approach and smile; he needed another drink.

Back stage, Bill wandered happily into his dressing room and started to change into his costume for the show. Humming and mumbling words to his song, Bill couldn't stop himself from smiling. There was a warm and bubbling sensation in his chest and he vaguely recalled it being like having butterflies in his stomach but it was so much more then that. Something had happened between him and Tom Kaulitz and it had sent searing joy throughout his body.

Sure Tom had been dressed in outdated clothing that hid a body he had only pressed against for a moment but could tell it was built and strong; like velvet surrounding a core of steel. If he didn't know better from his line of work he would say that he had developed a crush on the youth. And he was the spokes person for a band. A band that we could front and sing in and finally become something more then… "More then a whore." Bill whispered to himself sadly as the reality of his life came crashing down around him once again.

With a shuttered exhale, Bill went back to his regular schedule of getting ready for a show. As he brushed out his hair and sprayed it up into it's iconic mane of black and white there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Bill called from his vanity

Andrew Lee Potts waltzed into his room with his ever present smile and walked up to Bill in the same way he always did. To Bill it seemed as if Potts was always dancing; as if he always had music playing in his head; music and money.

"Bill," Potts said in his sing song way, "Bill, big news. There's a big time record label owner here tonight. And he wants to meet you."

Bill smiled happily at the reminder of Tom as he set about making his dark rimmed eyes more dramatic, "I know. I met him!"

"You did? Fantastic. Just think about it darling. He wants to turn this place into a real music venue." Potts announced as he put his hands on Bill's shoulders possessively. "And he wants to make my pet into a star."

Bill set down his make up and turned around to look at Potts, "Oh Andrew, it's a dream come true. I didn't know that he wanted to help the theatre though. He just said he was looking for a singer for one of his bands."

"Whatever he wants it's his. Perhaps he wants this place to be where one of his bands plays. Perhaps he wants a venue just for you to sing in. Whatever the case, you'll be a real singer, Bill. And I'll have a real music venue!" Potts sang and danced around the small dressing room. "Good bye whore house, hello concert hall!" Bill laughed happily and clapped his hands. "Oh Bill, Bill, Bill, it's everything we could have dreamed of. So after the show, you must take the nice man to your private suit and show him a good time. I want this set in stone darling and I know you can do it!"

"Of course Andrew, we'll pull out all the stops for this one." Bill cheered.

"I knew I could count of you pet!" Potts cooed brightly and clasped the sides of Bill's face in his hands to lean over and kiss Bill's forehead before whispering. "Sing like the angel you are my dear."

Bill smiled softly when they parted and Potts began his dance out the door, "I always do."

When Potts was gone and Bill was once again left alone, he turned and looked at his reflection, "But tonight it will be different. Tonight I'll be singing for Tom."

Author's Note: So here is Part 1 of 3 and I'd like to say that this is loosely based on Moulin Rouge and not a word for word following. So please don't flame and send me messages complaining about that. But please, please, please comment! I love hearing from you guys and hearing what you guys think.

XOXO

Cal!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: As I have said before I do NOT own… in fact I'm just going copy paste my last disclaimer, or at least the technical part of it. If you don't know how to exit an air plane you can go back and read my last A/N for this story.

I do NOT own Tokio Hotel, Moulin Rouge, Mcfly, and/or and peoples or musical properties that belong to them. This is for non-profit and for entertainment purposes only. It is a complete work of fiction and the character portrayals of actual people and places are for entertainment purposes only as well. This is a work of slash fiction a.k.a. it portrays homosexual relations between men. If you are uncomfortable with this please refrain from reading and find another piece of fan fiction or literature that is more appropriate for your tastes. This story also contains drug use, nonconsensual sex between men, abuse, self harm perhaps as well as other adult themes and settings. Again if you don't like; don't read!

Yey for copy paste! And for those of you who enjoy this stuff; enjoy your stay with Rescue Me: A Tom x Bill story. Be sure to attend continental brunch which we serve from 10 am to 2 pm. Thank you!

As it so happens Tom finally found the majority of his fellow band mates hunkered down in a booth near the center of the stage. Dougie was dancing once again, this time all the male and female dancers were paired up with a member of the opposite sex and Dougie had ended up with a girl that resembled a Barbie doll. Dougie, although smiling rather well, did not look happy at all with this partner. And considering the fact that she every few steps she would proceed to step on his foot, Tom couldn't really blame him. But regardless of Dougie's displeasure with the girl this did not stop Harry from making lewd comments every time she rubbed against Dougie more tehn Harry felt necessary.

"Harry cool it!" Fletcher hissed across the table at him. "You're embarrassing and we're going to get thrown out."

"Screw you Fletch, If Danny was up there getting felt up by a drunk snack you'd be yelling too." Harry blurted in retort. Danny had his arm around Fletcher's shoulders and only shook his head at the antics of his fellows.

"That's probably true Fletcher." Tom commented as he sat down at the table with a round of beers of the four of them.

"I wouldn't yell. I would simply take the girl out back afterward and kick the crap out of her for touching my property." Fletcher described calmly.

Danny laughed happily and pulled Fletcher into a tight embrace, "You're so adorable Fletch. I love you!"

"I love you too Danny!" Fletcher beamed and the two proceeded to kiss and cuddle with a flurry of murmured endearments thrown in.

Tom smiled and looked at his new found friends. Harry had gone back to encouraging Dougie to hit the girl for touching him inappropriately and Danny and Fletcher were snogging like teenagers at bible camp. He was happy for them all. But the thought that they had all found love while he was left to day dream about his experience with Bill at the bar was a little unsettling.

But the thought memory of Bill's lips on his own still tingled on his skin and the overwhelming feeling that had filled him body and soul still burned deep in the pit of his self. He hadn't known what to expect when he had met Bill. As far as he had been concerned he had come to make a business deal with the stunning young man. But when Bill had made him feel inspired. He had felt emotions that he had only dreamed he would feel; feelings that he craved to write and tell the world about.

And when Bill had touched him; kissed him. That had been the end of him. He was heavy under Bill's spell and as the lights began to change around him and the music softened Tom's world became focused on the luring siren call of Bill's voice singing out in a arching sound before sliding into words that hit Tom straight in the groin.

"With me; somewhere; one night, to share. Just you and me. We spread the seed!" Bill sang out in the dark, his body silhouetted by a red back light. "Eyes catch; you are so natural!"

The lights came up to reveal Bill in the middle of the long stage wearing a tight black leather corset and skinny black jeans that shimmered with a metallic sheen. He also wore large black angel wings; his hair a halo of black that framed his stunning face.

As the chorus came up; other dancers, dressed as angels as well except in white, sang with Bill who was strutting up and down the stage, flirting with audience members and teasing the men and women who gave him money.

Human connect to human

Boy meets girl, know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

When the break in the music came, Bill danced his way back to the center of the stage and locked eyes with Tom, who was super grateful for his oversized jeans. If he was going to be seeing Bill more frequently like he wanted, having room to hide the resulting boner was going to help.

"A kiss; a touch; never enough! So soft, so hot! Don't stop! You start!" Bill practically moaned while continuing his slightly burlesque routine. "And test the skills like animals"

Bill smirked at Tom when Tom bit into his lower lip to hold back a groan of pleasure as the chorus came back in.

Human connect to human

Boy meets girl, know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

Human connect to human

Boy meets girl, know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

Human connect to human

Girl meets girl, know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

Let me interact

How can I connect?

Let me interact

How can I connect?

As the song turned, Bill jumped from the stage and mingled around the booths. And as Tom watched he saw the man for earlier that had helped Bill find his phone. Again the tense ache of jealousy bit at Tom's mind as Bill slipped onto his table and sang to the man while dancing provocatively.

"Hit me! Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!"

Bill let out a ghostly noise again and made his way at last to Tom's table as the last couple chorus's began to play.

Human connect to human

Boy meets girl, know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

Tom sat on the end of the booth and as Bill came to the last chorus, Bill changed the lyrics slightly as he slipped onto Tom's lap and rolled his hips suggestively against Tom's hips. Tom moaned softly against Bills' neck as his hardening erection rubbed against Bill's ass insistently as if it were fighting to find a way through two layers of denim. As they grinded together Bill's unused hand snaked into Tom's dreads and tugged playfully before slipping the key to his private suite here at the club slipping into Tom's oversized pocket. Tom's hips hitching up as Bill's hand grew close to curtain areas and causing Bill to throw Tom a naughty smirk.

Human connect to human

You and me know what to do

Human connect to human

How can I connect to you?

Their eyes met for a moment of silent but lusty conversation as Bill slipped back onto stage to finish the last few phrases and end the song in a striking pose while the lights flashed down to black for a split second while Bill's vanished through a trap door in the floor to every ones surprise.

Let me interact

How can I connect?

Let me interact

How can I connect?

When the lights came back up and Bill was gone, the crowd exploded into a rapturous applause. Most people standing in ovation and amazement. Tom paid no attention to the noise around him and pulled the numbered key out of his pocket. Licking at his lip ring briefly, a wicked smile broke out upon Tom's lips at thoughts of the night to come filled his head.

Tom stood in front of Bill's door nervously. He had told his friends what had happened with Bill at the bar before the show and how he had been slipped a key to his room. Unfortunately that meant that his band mates were crouched around the corner in an attempt to watch the encounter or at least the beginning of it.

Looking down at the four of them "hiding" down the hall, Tom tried to wave them away but Harry just gave him a thumbs up while the rest urged him to actually knock. Giving into peer pressure you might say, Tom rolled his eyes and rapped his knuckles against the white door frame.

"Finally…" Bill's voice whined as the door swung open faster then Tom expected and a hand reached out and grabbed his baggy shirt to pull him into the room quickly before the door was slammed shut behind him and he was pressed up against it.

Bill had changed out of his costume from the show and was in a tight black wife beater and even tighter red boy short underwear.

"Happy to see me I take it?" Tom joked but placed his hands in Bill's hips and pulled Bill flush against him.

Bill smirked at Tom, "You have no clue. I thought I was going to cum right there in front of all those people when you were rubbing up against me."

"I almost did too." Tom confessed close to Bill's ear before nibbling mischievously at the lobe; sucking it between his teeth and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive flesh.

"Dear god! Tom! Take me to bed! Take me now!" Bill groaned.

Chuckling dark and low against Bill's throat, Tom lowered his hands to Bill's thighs and then picked him up. Bill's long and slender legs instinctively wrapping themselves around Tom's middle as Tom made his way toward the king sized bed that was made up in exquisite gold bedding.

Upon reaching their destination, Tom and Bill tumbled onto the bed and promptly began a fierce battle of lips and teeth and tongues that quickly turned into something close to pornographic. And again the bright and dazzling feeling that shook them to the very core seared through them now with intense heat. Some deep invisible connection tied them together and yanked at their heart strings making them cling to each other desperately.

Finally the lack of oxygen ripped their lips from one another and they parted mouths panting and gasping for air. Bill shuttered beneath Tom; cheeks flushed and lips quivering. It made Tom smile and reach up to caress Bill's cheek; brushing a stray bit of hair from the pink tinted white. Leaning down, Tom nuzzled at Bill's neck and inhaled the scent of him. "You smell like cherry blossoms in springtime." Tom murmured against Bill's throat and began to lay sweet kisses to the sweeter skin beneath his lips. "You taste like all the best flavors in the world and then some. I want to take you away and keep you with me always. Just so I can have that scent around me at all time and kiss you whenever I want."

Bill smiled brightly and laughed; his whole being filled with divine excitement. "You make a very tempting offer. You're so charming, tell me are all record execs this charming and wonderful or is it just you and I was lucky enough to fall in love with a rare one?"

Tom chuckled and pushed himself up on his hands to look down at Bill tenderly, "You bring it out in me. You inspire me. You make my heart want to leap out of my chest and sing songs about loving you. Also there is the fact that I'm not actually a record exec at all that might have something to do with it."

Something in the electrically changed air snapped and the realization of what Tom had said at the end of his confession made Bill's eyes go wide with shock and horror. "WHAT?" Bill shrilled, "What did you just say?"

"What, the loving you part or the part where I'm not a record exec?" Tom questioned.

"That!" Bill snapped and pushed Tom off the bed and stood up. "That part! No, no, no, no, no! You have to be a record exec. You told me you were…"

"In the music industry." Tom finished for him and stood up, "I'm a guitarist for the band… well we don't really have a name yet, but once we have you to sing Fletcher is sure that the band will take off."

Bill froze in horror, "Fletcher, you mean Tom Fletcher and his group of other mismatched teenagers?"

"Yeah," Tom replied, "And they really aren't that much younger then we are. You're only 21."

Bill groaned and began to pout, "That's not the point! How could I be so stupid? How could Potts be so stupid to fall for your act?"

"Potts?" Tom questioned as he kneeled down in front of Bill, grabbing Bill's hand and making small soothing circles over the shaking digits, "I haven't talked to Potts. That was the next step after I convinced you to sing with us. I don't even know what Potts looks like."

"But he told me there was a record exec here to see me and that he would turn this place into a real theatre. He said the guy wanted to make me a star, for real." Bill whined. "I thought he was talking about you."

Tom shrugged, "Well it wasn't me. I barely have enough money to rent out my crappy apartment across the street, much less pay to renovate anything."

"But… but... You have to be." Bill looked like he was on the edge of tears, "And if you're not, that means…"

There was a knock at the door and Bill gasped as Potts' voice came from the other side, "Bill, There's someone here to see you, a very special someone."

"Fuck!" Bill cursed and pushed Tom away from him, "Just a minute!"

Tom looked around frantically for another way out of the room but there was only the balcony and the door out to the hall. "Hide!" Bill hissed as he fumbled to grab his bathrobe.

"Where?" Tom whispered back frantically.

"Here," Bill urged and opened up the closet so Tom could slip inside the cramped place as Bill rushed to answer the door. Tom had barely managed to get fully inside when Bill threw open the door for Potts and the man that Tom had spent part of the night glaring at with jealousy.

"Pardon my lateness, I was just slipping into something more… comfortable. Please come inside." Bill said with one of his trademark smiles.

Potts lead Georg and Gustav into the room and Tom had to control himself not to fly out of the closet and tackle the smug looking man.

"Bill, this is Georg Listing of Prime Listing Entertainment. He has been looking forward to meeting you all evening." Potts introduced, "And Georg this is Bill Trumper, our angel of the night."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Listing." Bill beamed with an act he probably had used on a hundred other people before him and extended his hand for Georg.

"I assure you," George replied and took Bill's hand to kiss the knuckles, "the pleasure is mine."

Bill blushed slightly and Tom growled in distaste of the man. The noise causing Gustav to look about suspiciously. Sensing this, Bill plastered on a smile, "Well, I think that Mr. Listing and I have a lot more getting to know each other, don't we?"

"Yes! Yes you do!" Potts confirmed, "Perhaps Gustav and I can go to the bar and have a drink, to commemorate the occasion,while you two acquaint yourselves."

"That's quite alright Mr. Potts," Georg informed in the same unnerving tone he had used earlier, "but Gustav will remain outside the door. I like to keep him close by in case anything should happen that would be regrettable."

Bill swallowed a lump of fear that had been building in his chest and tried to compose his smile again, "I like a man that uses protection."

The pun was unintended but it made the other men laugh, excluding Gustav who Bill was fairly curtain never even smiled, and seemed to lighten the mood in the room.

"Yes, well I'll be at the bar if you require anything. Shall we, Gustav?" Potts chuckled as he ushered the large unhappy man out into the hall.

"I'll be right outside the door sir."

Georg nodded, "Thank you Gustav, I will inform you if there is anything that needs attending."

Once the other two had taken their leave, Georg turned his attentions back to Bill, who had taken a seat on the chaise lounge and was picking at the bowl of associated chocolates on the side table.

"Come sit with me, Mr. Listing." Bill offered and patted the space beside him invitingly as he popped a sweet into his mouth.

"Please call me Georg." Georg commented as he took the place at Bill's side and they began to chat while Bill fed them both chocolates. Mean while in the closet, Tom watched with growing hatred of the man Bill had thought was him and was about to burst from the closet when he noticed a sheet tangling down to the balcony outside and he recognized the slim bodies that were slipping down onto the landing from above.

Luckily, Bill also recognized the would-be spies as Tom's newly discovered band mates and when Harry managed to knock over a flower pot, Bill managed to distract George by reaching forward and pulling the man into a kiss he only hoped was breath taking.

Taking the few moments that Bill had Georg's eyes closed, Tom shuffled out of the closet and started to tip toe over toward the balcony. However he was only half way there when Georg did something unpredictable and moved to pin Bill down as he took control of the kiss and began to molest Bill's lips with his own.

The act made Tom burn with jealousy and he froze for a moment to contemplate killing the man with a butter knife. He only woke from his wrath induced haze when Fletcher tapped on the glass door out onto the balcony.

Unfortunately, it also brought Georg out of his Bill induced haze and caused Tom to make a swan dive behind the bed and out of sight.

Georg pulled away from Bill and began to look around, "What was that?"

"Oh, probably nothing." Bill shrugged and tried to coax Georg to turn his attention back to him so Tom could make a get away.

"No, I swear I heard something." Georg insisted and had almost turned around enough to see Tom army crawling toward the sliding glass door that Danny had managed to lock pick open had Bill not placed his hands on Georg's cheeks and forced Georg to look at him.

"Georg, Georg, if you heard something, it most surely was the beating of my own heart. I don't know what it is about you but, you…you… you inspire me. You make my heart want to leap out of my chest and sing songs about loving you." Bill stammered as he remembered Tom's words to him. And whether he spoke them back to Tom as Tom stole one last look back at Bill or to Georg in an attempt to distract the man, but their magic worked yet again. And Georg was fairly curtain he had fallen in love with the dark angel beneath him and Tom knew it as well.

But he couldn't confront it now and with the help of the Danny and Fletcher tugging at him, Tom escaped the balcony and back to his flat were he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Potts stood at his desk reviewing the contract before him and then looking back at the man seated in front of him in shock. George listing was a lot of things. Most recently he was the latest of young men to "seduce" the lovely Bill Trumper as well as being a multi-millionaire. And now he was the man who wanted to turn all of Potts' dreams into a reality; on one condition. "Mr. Listing, you do realize that Bill is my biggest earner. And what you're suggesting is… well it would eliminate a large amount of our income." Potts explained.

"Please call me Georg. Mr. Potts. You see, after Bill explained to me that it has always been his dream to become a proper singer and that he knows of a band to accompany him I am willing to donate a very large sum of money to your pitiful little whore house in an attempt to turn it into a real musical venue. And all I ask in return is full ownership of your pet Bill." Georg explained very calmly and with as much concern for the fact that they were talking about a person's life as one would talk about owning a dog.

"Yes, but Mr. Listing, I mean Georg, to propose that I in all actuality, sell you a person as if he was a slave…as if he were even my slave to begin with…" Potts stammered in utter disbelief. "Well it all seems rather archaic, don't you think?"

Georg's smile twisted into a sneer, "Mr. Potts, is that not what you do every night you let a man or women take him home with them; or let them have him here on this very premises? What I am proposing is simply that instead of pimping him out to a different person every night you will give him to me, every night."

"Yes, but…" Potts tried to object but Georg's logic seemed to over rule any objection he could think up.

"If you would like, I could always have Gustav illustrate for you the importance of my offer to your future." George finished while examining his nail beds. As he said this his rather imposing body guard stepped out of the shadows and glared at Potts threateningly.

"That…that won't be necessary." Potts responded and sat back down into his chair. "After looking over at your offer, Mr. Listing, I am sure that we can come to an arrangement that can be beneficial to us both."

Bill had cried after Georg had left his room. He had cried for himself, he had cried for the death of the dream he had had about himself and Bill, and he had cried for the reality that he was a whore who had sex for money.

He had cried so hard that his chest hurt and his eyes had felt wrung out of all their tears as he had climbed into the shower to scrub away any trace that Georg had even touched him. And he had thought of Tom.

Until tonight, Bill had always been happy with his job. He had come to terms with having multiple partners and of never falling in love. But Tom had changed all that in one night, in one moment, in one kiss.

Slipping out of the shower and drying off, Bill walked out into his bedroom and slipped into his black bathrobe. He looked about his room and saw that someone had come in and put new sheets and blankets on the bed while he had cleaned up and for that he was thankful. It was a small favor but one that would help Bill put Mr. Listing out of his mind at least for a few hours while he slept.

And then he noticed the bed sheet still hanging down from his balcony railing. Smiling, Bill opened up the double doors to the landing and walked over to the rail. His balcony was only two stories up and it appeared that the boys had tied all the bed linens from the room above his into a rope that reached the ground. Running his hands over the cheap cotton fabric, Bill thought about how Tom's hands had slide across it as he had fled into the night. His eyes glistening and wet again, Bill pulled up some of the heavy string of fabric and placed it in her lap.

Closing his eyes, Bill pressed it to his cheeks, trying to remember Tom's scent and pick it out in the sheet he held. Vaguely he could pick it out. It was a light and earthy scent, like musk and summer sun. And as Bill buried his face into the sheet, the scent grew stronger. It was like it floated on the air and it tugged at his being.

And that wasn't the only thing being tugged at. Suddenly the sheets were being pulled out of his lap and back over the railing. Flying to the rail, Bill looked down to see a shirtless Tom climbing up the sheets with a guitar strapped to his back.

"Tom!" Bill hissed down at him.

Hearing Bill's voice above him, Tom looked up and smiled while he continued to climb up.

"What are you doing here?" Bill asked and tried to sound irritated and not ecstatically happy at his arrival.

"I have come to rescue the fair prince of the night from his tower." Tom proclaimed half way up the wall.

Bill rolled his eyes and leaned over to answer him, "And what if the prince does not require saving?"

"Then," Tom groaned as he grabbed at the bottom ledge of Bill's balcony and then pulled himself up using the metalwork instead of the sheet. "I have come to steal the prince away. And rescue him even when he does not realize that he needs it." Tom smiled when he finally got over the last railing to stand in front of Bill with a charming smile.

Bill smirked and turned to walk back inside his room shutting the glass doors behind him, "Then good luck because I don't believe I will be requiring rescuing tonight. Especially from a broke guitarist who says pretty things."

"Don't…" Tom said against the glass, "Don't leave me out here."

Bill stood at the door and looked at him. "Why should I let you in?"

"Because you know that something happened between us. Because when I kiss you, it's like the world dissolves and the only thing left is us. And I know you feel the same thing. You know it too. You know that we're meant to be together, even if for one night." Tom implored to Bill through the glass; his hand coming up to stroke at the place where Bill's was on the other side.

"Why though?" Bill questioned, "Why do I feel this way about you?"

Tom smiled and placed his hand firmly on the glass in front of Bill's heart and his other over his own heart, "Because we're supposed to be together, You're the part of me that I've always vaguely missed. And we were supposed to be sacred to each other in a way that no one else could ever be. That's why."

Fretting with his tongue ring, Bill thought of the consequences of opening the door that separated him and Tom and what that would actually mean. Not just the physical after math of it all, but of the emotional doors he would be opening; doors he had locked up long ago.

But looking back at Tom, Bill knew that what Tom said was true. Part of him, some hollow part he had pushed away all his life was finally filled with Tom and Bill didn't want that thing to go missing again.

Giving in, Bill turned the lock and opened the door, shaking as he stepped away from it as Tom stepped inside. And within a stride, Tom was there, pressed against him and holding him. Tom's hands securely attached to his skin and his bare chest pressing against Bill's back through the thin silk bathrobe.

"Are you sure, you're not a record exec?" Bill whispered in one last protest.

Tom chuckled and turned Bill to face him. Clutching Bill's chin and holding him in place flush against his own body with his other arm, Tom pulled Bill into a soul searing kiss, only pushing away a few mere centimeters to answer when the lack of air began to burn their lungs, "I'm sure."

Author's note: So Part 2, I hope you guys enjoyed this and that you wonderful people are excited for the third and final installment which should be out later today. Again this is inspired by the work of Mearii on Deviant Art and in particular her picture No One At My Window! Please check her pictures out! They are amazing.

XOXO

Cal!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I do NOT own Tokio Hotel, Myfly, Moulin Rouge and or any peoples or properties associated with them. This is for entertainment purposes only and is for non-profit. This story contains slash if you don't like, please don't read. It also contains adult situations that may not be appropriate for all audiences. If you feel as if you are one of those people please go read something else.

This said; I have warned you multiple times and it's your own fault if you get offended or something like that. Peace!

"Knock, Knock!" Potts chimed as he let himself into Bill's dressing room the next night.

"Come in Andrew!" Bill called from behind his dressing screen happily. "I'm just finishing up changing."

"Bill…" Potts started nervously as he came in and shut the door behind him, "I have something to tell you; about the deal with Mr. Listing."

"Oh yes, congratulation. I heard he's fronting the whole financial side of the project." Bill cheered as he come out from behind the screen in an all white corseted outfit.

"Yeah, well, you see Bill. As generous as his offer is, it's not without payment in return. You see, for us to get what we want we have to give him what he wants and what he wants well…" Potts sat down at Bill's vanity and laid his head down on the cool marble. "I don't quite know how to say it Bill." Potts admitted forlornly.

Bill rolled his eyes at Potts and pushed Potts over so he could begin his daily make up regiment. "Stop being a drama queen and just tell me what it is Andy. It can't be all that bad."

"But it is Bill." Potts fretted; his head shooting up from the surface of the table, "It's horrible; what I've agreed to. And all for the sake of my own selfish interests. What have I done?" Potts moaned and placed his face in his hands; attempting to hide from the world that was closing in around him. "Oh, Bill, how could I have done this to you?"

A sense of dread began to fill Bill, "What have you done?" Bill whispered in calm fear.

Potts turned his head to look at Bill; his voice wet and dark, "He wants you Bill. And not as just a one night deal. He wants you and he wants you like someone wants a dog from the pound. He's playing for keeps."

A faint tremble began to crawl across Bill's body as horror and anxiety swept over him. "What?" Bill gasped as he stood up.

Potts looked up at him, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just…" Potts couldn't finish the sentence and instead moved his fingers through the air in a motion that Bill knew as Potts' signature.

"You…" Bill stammered and put a hand to his stomach. His corset was too tight, he couldn't breath. "You already signed… without me." No matter how much he tried, Bill couldn't get enough air in his lungs. He was suffocating.

Hearing Bill's struggle for air, Potts got to his feet and swept over to him, "Bill are you ok?"

"Ok?" Bill hyperventilated and tried to force a cruel laugh, "He asks if I'm ok. Oh God!" Leaning over to grab his dresser for support, Bill began to claw at his top. It was too tight, everything was too tight. The world was closing in and darkness was clouding the edges of Bill's vision. Everything was moving too quickly. And then Bill was falling and plush carpet suddenly felt incredibly soft on Bill's face.

"Help! Someone please Help!" Potts yelled somewhere off in the distance.

People rushed into the room. Bill could vaguely recognize the voices of Fletcher and Potts squabbling and the noise made Bill's head spin. And then there was a calming voice in his ear and strong arms picking him up.

Looking up at his rescuer, Bill tried to manage a smile at his savior, "Tom…" But stars and white spots were starting to invade his head space again and before he could finish his thought the world went black. _

Bill's eyes fluttered open to early morning light shimmering in through an open window. Agitated by the annoyance, Bill tried to resituate himself into a more comfortable place on the mattress. However, he was held firmly in place by the iron like grip of a pair of arms twined around him.

Blinking, Bill began to put together the pieces of the night before. His mind only catching glimpses of Tom rushing him out of the brothel and down the street to the urgent care. He remembered the way Tom talked to him the entire time. The soothing feel of Tom's hand on his back as Tom helped support him as they put an I.V. in his arm. And, after Tom had yelled at Potts about something, Tom had carried him all the way back to Tom's place. He was sure there had been more to it, that there had been a reason for his collapse, but his memories were fragmented and interrupted by shiny bits of black out.

It was like trying to piece together a puzzle at the nursing home; handfuls of pieces were missing or had been eaten up and Bill could only get a rough idea of what had really happened. But his musing was cut short by the shifting of the warm body wrapped around him and he looked up just as Tom's eyes were fluttering open.

"Morning." Bill chimed.

"Mmhmm." Tom groaned back and raised his arms above his head for a full body stretch. The movement finally allowing Bill freedom from the vice like arms and allowing for Bill to sit up at look around the place they were in.

Bill stifled a grimace at the state of living quarters Tom was inhabiting; but looking back at Tom he chose to forget it and just focus on the great expanse of sun-kissed flesh before him.

Laying back down, Bill kissed Tom's chest and laid his head upon the rise and fall of Tom to listen to the quickening of Tom's heat beat.

Tom sighed contently and began to play with Bill's hair as it washed over him like a sea of ink. "How are you feeling?"

"All better, I think." Bill cooed.

"You sure? Because I don't want to have to carry you to the hospital again. I mean, I don't have a car and you're a lot heavier then you look." Tom teased. Bill responded by playfully slapping Tom's peck. "Hey watch it, you don't want to bruise the merchandise do you?"

Bill stuck out his tongue and once again flashed his tongue stud at Tom before once again settling on Tom's chest.

They stayed there for a while, basking in their togetherness. Tom running his long fingers across Bill's bare back as they both flirted with the idea of going back to sleep but neither really committing to it.

The sun rose higher and the need for food and the bathroom began to make it's self known. After they took turns in the small bathroom, Tom solved the food situation with a loaf of day old French bread and Nutella. Licking and nibbling at each other's chocolate covered fingers, they fed each other and found sustenance in not only the food but in being close.

Around noon, Fletcher and the boys dragged themselves into Tom's room; brining instruments and a set of mismatched chairs with them to make a circle around Tom and Bill's mattress for the group to jam in. They laughed the day away; singing and playing whatever music came to them at the time. Bill and Dougie chatted about people at work while their men challenged each other to one contest of strength after another. If Harry won at push-ups, Tom would challenge him to sit ups to which Bill and Dougie were avid fans and thus the cycle was unending unless Fletcher and Danny put an end to the madness and made them work.

The fun came to a pause around dinner time. Dougie and Harry wanted to have alone time together before Dougie went to work and Danny managed to lure Fletcher away from talking Bill's ear off with the promise of a nice dinner somewhere. Leaving Tom and Bill, who still hadn't made it out of their pajamas the entire day, alone and sprawled across the bed; lazing in the warm afternoon sun like cats.

"So what happened exactly?" Bill wondered as he sat up and stretched his back.

"What happened last night you mean?" Tom asked for assurance.

"Yes," Bill affirmed as pulled at Tom so Tom would sit betwixt his legs. "I don't remember much. Andrew came in and told me something and then everything gets fuzzy. It's like trying to watch a movie while you're really drunk. You only understand half of it."

Tom chuckled softly and maneuvered himself according to Bill's wishes until his head rested back against Bill's chest. "Do you remember them cutting you out of that fancy corset? That was kind of fun." Tom asked in a purr reserved for the sensation of Bill's talented fingers making their way into his thick dreads and rubbing his scalp.

"They did what?" Bill shrieked, yanking on Tom's dreads.

"Shit!" Tom cursed in pain, "It was constricting your ability to breath. I think it was a worthy casualty."

Bill pouted, "But that was one of my favorites."

"How about this," Tom compromised, his eyes straining to look behind him at Bill, "When the band gets big, I'll buy you one just like it. I'll buy you as many as you want."

"Really?" Bill murmured softly but hopefully

"Yes."

"Oh Tomi!" Bill sighed as he wrapped his arms around Tom and hugged him tightly.

Tom laughed and tried to reach behind him the best he could to return the hug. Meanwhile, Bill's head had found it's way to Tom's neck and it inspired Bill to begin kissing and nibbling at Tom's neck playfully.

"MMMH! Baby, that feels so good." Tom moaned; his head rolling back and his eyes falling shut.

Bill's hands, spurred by Tom's response, began to snake their way down Tom's chest to the rim of Tom's boxers as he continued to assault Tom's neck.

"Baby," Tom groaned, "As much as I would love for you to continue this… I think we should… ah finish the conversation we were having before." Tom's mind and half hard on hoping Bill wouldn't listen to him.

"Oh yeah!" Bill piped, lips and hands disappearing so quick it caused Tom a wipe lash of sensation.

"Ahh, OK, so what do you remember?" Tom asked, still not sure what he was feeling.

"I remember getting dressed," Bill started while his hands began to work their magic on Tom's scalp again. "And Andrew walked in, that's Potts' first name, anyway he walked in and told me something about the brothel being turned into a real club, but he had agreed to something… something really bad. It had something to do with me and Mr. Listing, right?"

Suddenly the bubble of happiness that had been keeping Tom's mood afloat popped and his eyes slowly slid open to reveal heated anger behind his eyes.

"What is it Tom? What happened?" Bill pressed.

"He sold you. Potts; the bastard sold you to Listing. You're his exclusive plaything from now on. That's what he came to tell you." Tom growled; sitting up and pulling away from Bill's reaching hands.

Bill started to shake once again, this time in confusion, "What, why?"

Tom kept his gaze on the mysterious stain on the hard wood floor, "Because that's what Listing wanted. You. And he was willing to give Potts whatever he wanted for it. So Potts agreed."

"Oh," Bill murmured and pulled his legs up against his chest, trying to hide within himself.

Sensing Bill's withdrawal Tom turned and crawled to Bill's side, "But he can't do that can he? He can't sell you because he doesn't own you. You can't sell something that isn't yours, right?"

Bill lifted his head to stare at Tom with sad wet eyes that were all the answer Tom needed to that question. "But that means… that he… how could he?"

"Andrew owns me, Tom. It…it was a long time ago. I was barely 13 at the time. My mom was a junkie and needed money for drugs. Andrew was her dealer at the time. It was before the brothel, before Andy had everything really and my mom couldn't pay for the drugs with cash, so she made a deal with him, sold me to him. Just so she could get her fix." Bill rattled the story off like it was out of some story book he had had as a kid; like it wasn't his story at all.

"And for awhile it was great. Andy took care of me and made sure that I had food and a place to sleep and he bought me nice clothes. I thought that for once that there was someone who really cared about me. But when I was 17 everything changed. Andrew got the club off some low life pimp for real cheap and he wanted to turn it into a night club, a dive bar really where I could sing and he could sell drugs in the back room. And it was that way for a few months and we always had a crowd when I sang. But we weren't making any real money.

"Well, come to find out that it was because they were all trying to get into my pants. And so Andrew asked me one night if I would sleep with one of the audience members for moeny. He made it sound like it was just one time and I couldn't say no because Andrew controlled me, he was my owner. But then that one time became another time and another until people were only coming to the club to sleep with me. And so I just went with it and learned how to make the most out of it. Andrew hired more boys and more girls and it all just came together I guess. But he always wanted the club to become a club again. Like it was at the beginning. And now that can happen."

Tears were flowing freely from Bill's eyes and Tom pulled him into his arms. "What are we going to do Tom? I don't want to go back! I don't want to belong to him."

"Then don't go back. We'll run away and go somewhere where Potts and Listing can't hurt you, where they can't find you." Tom whispered into Bill's hair as he held onto the shaking man tighter.

"But what about Fletcher and the band? If I don't the band won't get to play and I'll never get another chance to be a singer if we're on the run." Bill pointed out sniffling, "Fletcher and everyone will get beaten if not worse. I have to go back Tom. I have to or they'll come after you and Fletcher and they'll track us down and they'll kill you…"

"Bill," Tom stopped him, taking Bill's face into his hands, "Bill, listen to me, no matter what. No matter what happens, we'll make it through because we have each other. Because I love you Bill, and all you need is love. We'll make it through whatever they throw at us, because come what may, we have each other, right? And someday I'll rescue you. I promise. I'll take you away from here. And it'll be just you and me. I promise." The air between them was thick and they shared each others breath as they rested their foreheads against one another in a tight embrace.

"Make love to me, Tom." Bill begged in a whisper, "Make love to me one more time before we have to go back."

"You're wish is my command." Tom murmured back.

And so the lovers lived this way. The brothel closed and the new stage started to be built. During the day Georg would call upon Bill for dates and other things and each time a band rehearsal was conveniently scheduled on the spot by Tom or Fletcher. And when events with Georg could no longer be avoided, Tom was always clever enough to snag an invitation in the name of promoting the band. And to make matters worse, most days Georg would arrange to be at rehearsals and watch the progress of his investment as well as keep an eye on his Bill. Because during the day, Bill was his.

But at night, Bill was Tom's. The pair existed in Tom's decrepit apartment and lived a pleasure live that revolved around each other and the music they created there. But after awhile Bill refused to spend one more night on the sinking mattress that was there and instead ordered his king sized bed removed from the brothel's storage locker and relocated to Tom's. And together they spent their time there in requited ecstasy as they made love to one another. Learning and memorizing the contours and lines of each other's flesh in ways they had never known.

Fingers tangled in sheets and lips locked in a passion play neither knew the end to but were always striving for. In this way they belonged to each other.

And when they wrote songs, they spoke to each other in the hidden ways they had learned by moonlight. In their songs they could speak to each other during the daylight hours in the secret tongue they had created at night.

"Rescue me?" Fletcher read as he looked over the chords, his gaze shifting between Tom and Bill like he knew what the title really meant. "Whatever, you two are crazy."

"Thank you!" Bill bubbled as the guitars picked up and began the song.

"This used to be our secret. Now I'm hiding here alone. Can't help but read our names on the wall

And wash them off the stone. I trusted you in every way. But not enough to make you stay. Turn around. I've lost my ground." Bill would sang at rehearsal on the newly constructed stage.

Bill sashayed about the stage like the rock star he always wanted to be as Tom's fingers ran like fire over the strings of the brand new guitar Bill had picked out for him. The phrase, "I will not be seen on stage with you if you don't have a guitar that is as good looking as me." stood out in Tom's mind as he strummed along to Bill's taunting lyrics.

"Come and rescue me. I'm burning, can't you see. Come and rescue me. Only you can set me free. Come and rescue me. Rescue me; Rescue me." Bill's lyrics were the hidden message Tom had written for Bill to let him know that no matter what, Tom would always be there to catch Bill as he fell; to rescue him from the fire.

"The walls are coming closer. My senses fade away. I'm haunted by your shadow. I reach to feel your face. You're not here. Are you here? Come and rescue me. Rescue me."

And every time Bill sang the words, he couldn't prevent himself from looking at Tom; could not stop himself from drawing closer to him in an attempt to reach out and hold onto the person he sang to. And as Georg sat and watched each days rehearsal, he too began to feel some of the true meaning in the words Bill crooned.

"Come and rescue me. I'm burning, can't you see. Come and rescue me. Only you can set me free. Come and rescue me. Rescue me. You and me. You and me. Rescue me. You and me. Set me free. Rescue me"

"You see Mr. Potts, there appears to be something going on between my Bill and the guitarist, this Tom Kaulitz. And although I understand the need for rehearsals to be frequent since we open in only a month now. I do feel as if my time… has been rather wasted." Georg informed Potts.

The pair were once again in Potts office and once again Potts was in a very uncomfortable position. "I'm afraid, Georg, that there is little I can do about Bill's involvement with members of the band. We want the best show possible and the more they practice, the better they will get, am I right?"

Now Georg was a very understanding man, but he was not one that liked other people playing with his toys. "Potts, I don't give a shit about the success of this shitty band. I do however care about the happiness of my things. And Bill just so happens to be one of them. I agree, he seems very happy when he is practicing with the group of miscreants and that is exactly my point."

"Which is?" Potts asked nervously

"They are making him happy and not me!" Georg spat as he stood up and grabbed Potts' collar; pulling him across the desk and into spitting distance, "I should be the one he is fawning over not some impoverish guitarist with unwashed hair! He is mine and I have paid a lot of money for him! Now I don't care what you have to do, but if things don't change regarding Bill's attitude toward my advances and toward the unkempt musicians he frequents himself with I will have nothing to keep me from destroying everything I have built here. Is that understood?"

Potts' eyes were wide and his hands were shaking in fear. "Ye…" Potts tried to stammer in reply.

"What was that? If you can not understand these simple instructions perhaps I need to have Gustav come in here and show you exactly what I do to people who don't listen to instructions." Georg threatened.

"NO! No, no! I understand. Please don't call Gustav!" Potts begged desperately.

"Then what are you going to do about our situation?" Georg snarled, his nails ripping slightly into Potts' horrendous paisley button up.

A few hundred cheesy scenarios flashed through Potts' brain before he could fumble with a solution, "I'll… ehh.. I'll set up a privet dinner for you and Bill in our most romantic suite. I'll make sure that the guitarist is no where near there. You'll have Bill all to yourself. I promise!"

Georg took a moment to think about the option before letting Potts go with the same sweet and sour smile on his face he had given Potts before. "Wonderful. Make it happen. And remember, if this doesn't go as planned, Gustav won't just be having a conversation with you, but also with a few other of your people. Have a nice day." Georg cheered as he exited the office.

Potts collapsed in his chair, deeply shaken and troubled. After a few deep breathes, Potts looked down at the front of his shirt to see imprints from Georg, "God damn it! Now I have to get a new shirt!"

Tom sat in his apartment plucking at chords in no apparent pattern other then it gave his fingers something to do and distract him from the fact that Bill was late. Harry and Dougie were holed up in the corner smoking and the sticky sweet smoke was filling the air with haze.

"What did Potts say he had to talk to Bill about, Dougie?" Tom finally asked after taking turns between fretting with his lip ring and biting his nails for about twenty minutes.

Dougie shrugged, "I don't know. Probably something to do with Mr. Listing. He's been hanging around a lot more lately hasn't he?"

"Yeah," Tom worried, "It's fucking hard enough trying to keep my hands off of Bill all day let alone not look at him in the wrong way."

Harry laughed, "It's a good thing you wear those baggy pants too, because I swear, you look like you pop a boner at regular Bill induced intervals every time we play Rescue Me."

Dougie laughed and Tom tried not to blush too much, "Hey shut up! Bill's hot and it's not like he makes it easy on me. Always bouncing around in those tight ass pants."

"Tight ass!" Dougie snorted, receiving a love tap to the back of the head from Harry.

Tom rolled his eyes and smiled. "I just wish I knew where that tight ass was."

Fortunately, a moment later an exhausted looking Bill plastered himself to the window on the door to the apartment. After Fletcher and the band had attacked the door on Tom's first day the land lady had put a work order in for a new door. Unfortunately the door that replaced the busted one had a pretty four paned window in it and Bill had had to make a set of lacey white curtains for it out of the remnants of his corset.

Bill looked in through the window and gave Tom the look. It was code for, you better tell anyone else in the room to leave because I'm going to attack you when I manage to get the door open. The only other time Harry had ever seen the look before he had taken longer then 45 seconds to vacate the room and had been witness to the beginning of the rather sad end of a set of sheets Tom and Bill wanted to break in.

Spurred by that particular memory, Harry quickly stood up, threw Dougie over his shoulder and slipped out the door just as Bill managed to turn the difficult knob and open the door. Dougie yelling and waving his fingers at Bill as they retreated up the stairs, "Have fun Bill, don't wear him out too bad."

Bill huffed in response and Tom jumped slightly as Bill slammed the door, making the glass in the door shake. Like a big cat on the prowl, Bill stalked toward Tom with a dark purpose in his honey brown eyes; pulling off his shirt and throwing it into the corner on the way. "Hey babe." Tom greeted shakily as he sat up on the bed.

"We don't have time for pleasantries." Bill snarled as he climbed onto the bed and straddled Tom's thighs, "Just shut up and kiss me." Tom's protest was cut off by Bill, who had successfully wound his way around Tom and had collided his mouth against Tom's with a needy moan.

With rivaled fervor, Tom's passion was instantly set ablaze by Bill as he rolled his hips against Tom's in a way that sent joints of happy energy straight to Tom's groin. "Bill, I want you so bad." Tom moaned as his desperation became equal with his lovers.

"Shhhh, no time for talking. We only have an hour until I have to go." Bill heeded against Tom's lips; his fingers clawing at Tom's oversized tee-shirt.

"Wait…" Tom questioned between kisses and helping Bill extract his own shirt from his torso, "Wait, why do you have to leave?"

"I have to have dinner with Listing tonight." Bill growled against Tom's collarbone as he attacked the flesh there with his lips and teeth before working his way down Tom's torso. "No what part of shut up didn't you understand?"

"But…but Bill, why? I can come?" Tom gasped as Bill's tongue lavished it's way across Tom's abs, the stud there adding an exciting bit of pressure to the long swipes.

Bill bite one of Tom's abs in response to all his questions causing Tom to jolt in pain and pleasure, "No, you can't come along. Listing is getting pissy because we don't have any alone time or something." Bill once again cut himself short by distracting himself with Tom's pants and trying to pull the copious amounts of denim off of Tom's hips. "Why the hell do you wear these awful pants again?"

"Because I like them." Tom replied but wouldn't let Bill change the subject, "I don't want you to go."

"I have to." Bill stated as he finally managed to remove Tom's jeans all by himself. "He'll scrap the project if I don't and then how are we ever going to make it big and then how are you ever going to be able to save me from him." Bill once again tried to make Tom shut up by kissing him by Tom stopped him by grabbing his thin shoulders and holding him out of reach. "Oh, come on Tomi, it's just dinner."

"No, Bill, it's not just dinner. You know that he's gonna want more then that. You know that." Tom chided. "And even though I know that we said it didn't matter, it does matter and I don't want you to go."

Bill scolded at Tom, "Tomi, you don't understand. If I don't go, that guy Gustav is going to kill you and Fletcher and anybody who stands in Listings way. And I can't let that happen. I can't let you get hurt. So I have to go." At Bill's words, Tom's hands fell from Bill's shoulders and Bill fell forward into Tom's chest.

"Oh Bill…" Tom sighed while his arms wrapped around Bill and clung there for dear life.

"Please don't try to stop me Tomi. I have to go for us. So that we can stay together." Bill sobbed into Tom's aching chest.

Tom chewed at his lip ring and thought about saying to hell with it and stealing Bill away anyways, "…OK. You can go. But I want you home tonight. I want you back in my arms before morning."

"I promise, Tomi. I promise." Bill murmured frantically. Bill's lip trembled as he looked up into Tom's eyes and the only thing Tom could think to do was stop it, with a kiss.

Author's Note: So I decided to chop the last part up into two parts because it was getting insanely long and I needed to post something so yeah! I'm almost done with the last part. Please, please, please comment!

XOXO

Cal!


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